


primordial soup

by sun_fm (traceylane)



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:42:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traceylane/pseuds/sun_fm
Summary: some moments in the soft and fancy lives of andrew and steven





	1. One

Andrew, somehow, was always awake before him.

“What the hell? It’s like six in the morning.”

Steven had come down rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hair flattened in various places and stiff upright at various angles, to find Andrew at their kitchen table, coffee already made.

“Our flight’s at nine,” Andrew explained without looking up from what he was reading. Steven leaned down, still groggy, and brought his face close to Andrew, who pressed a kiss to his cheek almost reflexively and then took another sip from his mug. 

Steven went over to the fridge and opened it with a clatter. “Is that a magazine? Do people still subscribe to magazines?”

“That’s a very ‘I work for Buzzfeed’ thing for you to say,” Andrew said wryly, and Steven laughed, removing a jug of orange juice from the fridge. “Although, it’s an _Us Weekly_ from March 2009 that I found in one of the moving boxes, so jury’s still out.” He flipped the page. “There’s still more coffee in the pot, if you want any.”

“Thank you, baby.” He kissed Andrew this time, right below his left eye, using fingertips to tilt his chin up lightly. Andrew _mhm_ -ed indifferently at the affection, although his lip curled slightly into a small smile. Steven then grabbed a glass for his juice and a mug for his coffee from their shelves, but before pouring, spun the mug around his finger by its handle, tossed it in the air, and caught it.

“Please stop juggling the dishware. God, I really can’t take you anywhere.”

Steven laughed again. “We’re in our apartment!”

“The statement still stands.”

And then Steven brought his juice and coffee over to the table, dragging a chair to the same side that Andrew was sitting on. He laid his head on Andrew’s arm, the one holding the magazine, and scanned over the article about some late 2000’s Jessica Simpson crisis that was printed on the open page.

“You know, we don’t have to sit on the same side. We’re not trying to fit into the frame,” Andrew said, although he had leaned into the touch so his face rested on top of the mess of Steven’s hair.

“Uh-huh,” Steven said, not having heard any of that. “Oh, she _definitely_ wore that better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's something that i spat out bc ive been binge watching this show and everything about it is really helpin me out during these hard times; i love their rapport and their dynamic and if i continue this the next part might be from a whole other universe, maybe they won't be together or living with each other, maybe they'll be deep sea divers/astronauts in the ocean, so who knows  
> hope you enjoyed this Peak Domesticity™


	2. Two

Andrew was looking up at him from a salmon-colored towel, lying on his stomach and mouthing something that Steven couldn’t hear. Steven tilted his head and tapped the side of it with the heel of his hand.

“What? Sorry, there’s water in my ears!"

“I said you’re _dripping_ on me, Steven. Oh, God--” Steven shook his head back and forth, the salt water flying from his hair like sparks from a backyard firework, “--what are you, a dog?”

Steven woofed, and Andrew laughed, his eyes crinkling under his shades.

They were in Hawaii, again. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, its rays unimpeded by the thin clouds passing overhead like wisps of smoke. Steven removed his towel from his bag and ruffled it over his head before laying it across his shoulders and sitting down, tucking his knees up to his chest to keep his calves out of the sun.

“You should go in the water! It’s unbelievable, like, the perfect temperature.”

“Steven, if I leave the shade of this umbrella right now, I will boil. Like a lobster.”

“Mmm. Sounds delicious.”

Andrew picked up a handful of sand and tossed it at Steven, coating his leg in fine, white grains. “Do _not_ kick any back at me,” he said, already raising his hand and turning his face in defense, “You can’t attack me while I’m down here, it’s not fair.”

“Would it be a _beachy_ thing to do?”

“You did that one already. Twice. The first time right after I did it.”

“So you say I failed to _beach_ you to the punchline?” Finger guns.

“That one… was pretty good.”

Steven easily smoothed his hand up Andrew’s bare back to where his fingers finally settled, squeezing lightly at the base of his neck.

“You can’t share my towel just because yours is all wet now,” Andrew said, but there wasn’t any fight in it, and he scooted slightly to the edge of the towel to leave a little more room. Steven took those extra inches happily.

They had driven for a while to the northern part of the island to find a shore that wasn’t too crowded. Every so often a couple or a small family would walk past, but at that moment their view of the ocean was unobstructed. Wordlessly they watched it, Steven absentmindedly moving his hand in circles over Andrew’s shoulders and up through his hair in rhythm with the crash and flow of the water.

Without meaning to, Andrew murmured, “That feels nice.”

“Huh?” Steven’s hand suddenly (and unfortunately) stopped, and he leaned slightly to bring his ear closer to the ground.

“I said, ‘Where are we going tomorrow?’”

 _“Tuna!”_ Steven answered dramatically. Andrew could already imagine the onscreen graphic. “Bluefin tuna, to be exact.” He sounded pleased with himself.

“Did you know bluefin tuna can live for up to 35 years?” Andrew asked, his face squished against his arms, folded in front of him like a pillow. He wondered when he had gotten into the habit of storing away obscure information about sea creatures for occasions such as these.

“Oh, so there are tuna in the ocean right now that are older than me?”

“Yeah. In their _prime_.”

They both laughed, and Steven leaned back against his hand, laying the other one warm on Andrew’s shoulders once again.

“...You sure you don’t want to go in the water?”

Andrew closed his eyes, listening to the churning of the sea and relaxing at the touch on his back.

“Maybe later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yet another one bc i 'm..... love them  
> i also love the beach  
> briny boys


	3. Three

Andrew hadn’t seen Steven in twelve days.

Well, he had seen him, just not  _ seen  _ him, seen him--they’d cross paths in the workroom every so often, or sit across a conference room table in the same meeting, or Steven would send Andrew another link to another stupid viral video that he’d laugh at when nobody was looking. But none of those interactions had been real conversations, and it made Andrew feel kind of… strange.

And no, he hadn’t been counting--it actually took about a week for him to really notice something felt off about his life, and then another few days to realize what it was. 

At first he tried to think if he had done something to cause the avoidance, but then he realized that Steven was just… busy. It was amazing how easily he occupied his time; he had an admirable work ethic, but he also had the energy of an eight year old hopped up on Kit Kat bars and a personable nature that had him making plans left and right with almost everybody in the office for the past  _ twelve days _ \--except, of course, for Andrew.

So when he caught Steven next, he asked, bluntly, “What are you doing today?”

And Steven, ever oblivious, missed the hint at a possible invitation to hang out. He didn’t look up from his computer when he answered, “Dude, I’m  _ swamped _ . I still need to edit the Lifestyle video we did last week, then I’m meeting with Matt at three to talk about scheduling for next week, and then Keith and Ryan wanted to check out the new bar on Avery but I’m probably going to end up DD-ing...”

He took a deep breath, which was either a tired sigh, or a consequence of not pausing for the entirety of his last sentence. Then he finally looked up at Andrew and asked, chipper, “Why? What are  _ you  _ doing today?”

Andrew blinked. “Uh… just working, I guess.”

“Oh. Did you… want to come to the bar with us? I have space in my car.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s a lot of, uh, work.”

“Oh, cool. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

But Andrew was already walking away, leaving Steven to wonder why he looked grumpier than usual.

 

\--

 

Andrew found a note on his desk the next day; it was a piece of white copy paper, folded in half, with the words “Dear Andrew” on the front in black and red Sharpie block letters. Andrew’s urge to roll his eyes battled with his urge to smile. 

He sat down and read it, quietly, out loud to himself: “Dear Andrew, lunch on me today? Circle one.”

And on the bottom was a big “Yes!!” next to a slightly smaller “No”, the ‘N’ and ‘O’ each in one half of a hand drawn broken heart. 

“Creative,” he muttered. The smile won out. 

He saw movement in the corner of his eye. He looked up, and saw half of Steven’s face and all of his obnoxiously spiky hair peeking out from behind his computer screen. 

“How much did you pay the sixth grader who made this?” He held up the note. Steven snatched it from his hand. 

“I’m going to frame this,” he said, “and put it up in your apartment.”

“Don’t, and I will agree to go to lunch with you.”

“Deal. You feel like pizza? I’m craving pizza.”

Andrew slipped his jacket from off the back of his chair. Steven bumped their shoulders together excitedly when he stood up, grinning his big, toothy, contagious grin. 

“This is important, Steven, I want you to understand this: I  _ always  _ feel like pizza.”

 

\--

 

“You ever think about how cheese is just, like, expired milk?”

“It’s called ‘aged’.”

“So it expires gracefully.”

Andrew laughed. 

Later on when he was chewing thoughtfully through his third slice, Steven asked, “You know what’s weird?”

“That you still have a habit of talking with your mouth full like a child?”

Steven tossed a balled up napkin at him. “No. What’s weird is, I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Andrew hesitated before his next bite. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I think it’s been, what, a week since we’ve hung out? You haven’t noticed?”

_ It’s been two weeks, actually,  _ Andrew would’ve said, if he’d had less pride. Instead he shrugged. “I mean, I haven’t felt too annoyed in the last week. Think that’s at all related?”

“I think that’s Andrew Speak for ‘I missed you’.”

“Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

“How about just pizza?” Steven reached over for Andrew’s hand and pushed the slice he was holding against his face. Andrew laughed--albeit with an “Ugh,”--and swatted him away. Steven handed him a new napkin, which he took, shaking his head, to wipe off the grease off of his cheeks. 

“Well, whatever. I missed you,” Steven said. “I’m not afraid to say it.”

Andrew polished off his crust. “... Yeah, okay. I missed you, too.”

Steven whipped his phone out. “Can you say that again? I’m going to put it on my story.”

“Nope. I don’t speak for a camera unless I’m getting paid.”

But Steven already had Snapchat open on his phone; Andrew could see the both of them on his screen. Did they always sit this close together? “Andrew just said he missed me. Say ‘Hi’, Andrew!” 

“Hi, Andrew,” he said blithely. 

Steven laughed, then ended the video, tapping his phone a few more times before putting it away. “Did that cost me anything?”

Andrew sat back, pretending to think about it. “I think the cost of this pizza will suffice.”

“Was it worth it?”

“You know what, Steven? It was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god these are getting progressively longer, my bad
> 
> you can read their relationship however you want, i get kind of annoyed/sad when a friend doesnt hit me up for two weeks too even when i dont have a crush on them lmao
> 
> also i like... dont edit these very heavily so if you see a typo or whatever..... chime off in the comments my dudes  
> thanks for reading!


	4. Four

It was 5:30AM; the sun was set to rise in about an hour, while the boys had been awake for almost two.

“Are you not going to drink that?”

Andrew gestured at the cup of iced coffee balancing on Steven’s knee under his hand, untouched and dripping with condensation. He had already finished his.

Steven looked up at him slowly with half-lidded, half-dead eyes.

“Do you want it?”

“No. I bought it for you because I knew you were going to be like this.”

“Be like what?”

Andrew finally moved his gaze away from his phone to look at him for a long moment, eyebrows raised. “Cranky,” he answered eventually.

They were sitting in front of their gate at LAX with twenty minutes before their boarding time. Steven was slumped into his chair, somehow resting his head on Andrew’s shoulder over the metal bar that separated their seats. His free hand was sitting palm up on Andrew’s thigh; Andrew’s wrist was crossed over his, his pinky lying loosely in the dip where Steven’s thumb met his other fingers.

Steven gave in and took a sip of his drink. “Can I have some of your croissant?”

“I asked if you wanted one and you said you weren’t hungry.”

“That isn’t who I am anymore… I’ve grown up, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You’ve grown up from thirty minutes ago?”

“Andrew. Please. Pastry.”

“I don’t have it. I gave it to Adam.”

Steven looked to the seat on his other side where Adam was fiddling with his camera, trying to look innocent with crumbs on his shirt.

He sighed. “ _Now_ you share with Adam?” He sank even further into his chair, his eyes fluttered closed, and for a minute it seemed like he had fallen asleep. Andrew peered down at him and remembered how endearing Steven could look when he was quiet.

He shifted to reach around Steven’s neck and ran a finger over the tips of his lashes. Steven opened his eyes halfway and squirmed, evidently not asleep. “That tickles.”

“Do you curl these?”

“What? No.”

Andrew moved on to his other eye. “They’re like, an inch long. Is that long, for eyelashes?”

“Not for a giraffe,” Adam murmured, informative as usual.

Andrew dropped his hand, but kept his arm where it was, draped over Steven’s shoulders. Steven straightened slightly to lean closer against him and then, for just a moment, felt Andrew’s lips press lightly against his temple. His stress strangely evaporated.

“I’ll get you another croissant when we get there,” Andrew said out loud, now looking back at his phone.

“The first Starbucks we see.”

“Sure,” Andrew conceded.

“Toasted.”

“Pretty sure they just use a microwave.”

“Microwaved, then.” Steven pointed to his face. “A microwaved croissant, in my mouth, when we get there.”

Adam cut in. “Where else would you put it?”

“I don’t know, Adam! Definitely not in _your_ mouth!”

They were both laughing at him at this point. Then they heard the click of a loudspeaker, and their flight was called to board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter one thank god  
> sorry i sincerely cant get enough of them it's so annoying  
> my fav standrew is the one where they're just Two Dudes who are drawn to each other physically romantically conversationally etc. etc. almost intuitively, like it's really interesting watching the rhythm of the way they talk irl  
> fucking compatible assholes


End file.
